Threaded
by Cherrie Keane
Summary: It is always unwise to tempt the hand of fate. V/R.
1. Chapter 1

Better bring out the insulin shots folks, because this one gets MESSY and DRAMATIC.

I also reduced the rating to T, because....eh...their TALKING about sex, but they don't really get down to the nitty gritty. I don't write that kind of stuff anymore (you don't want me to, believe me). Their are a few subtle hints of graphic actions, but unless you're my age and have some experience under your belt, you wont get it. Sorry kids. :3

also, THE WRITING IN _ITALICS_AND** BOLD** is NOT happening in V/R's world. Its metaphorical, for the temptation of fate. its suppose to be a kind of...companion to whats happening in the real world. I hope that's obvious, but in case it isn't, that's my explanation.

Disclaimer: No, I actually don't own static shock and all that that implies. Sad fact, but true. But then again, if I DID, this kind of dramatic bullshit would ALWAYS happen :D

* * *

_**Nothingness...as it had always been. Nothingness lingered, giving no indication of light nor life within its ranks. **_

The keyhole to the gas station clattered noisily. It was enough to scare any of the few rats still occupying the vacant place into hiding, so that by the time that the offender entered the sad excuse for a super hero's headquarters it appeared perfectly empty.

_**There was no natural light in this place... No objects to obstruct ones vision, no wind to stir the surroundings, no heat to stifle the air. This was nothingness, as it had always been.**_

He gave one last fleeting look to the dark gray sky outside. It had been overcast all day and the rain was due any moment now. As if in response to his thoughts thunder dully sounded somewhere off in the distance,

He closed the door and made sure to lock it before taking off his jacket. Somewhere to his right on the desk he noted that backpack was still docked and charging. He heard the whirr of machinery in the still robot, even though it was offline. He had put it in sleep mode when he had left it earlier, so that it could charge but still alert him and his companion of on-coming threats.

After moment of groping in the dark he finally found the light switch and flipped it in the _'on'_ position. Overhead the old Christmas lights that lined the piping flared the life. He smiled.

_**And out a nothingness, a charred and decayed hand drew a thread into better reach. Though there was no light here, there were colors. To a human eye, they would all seem like one color, but to the fates, they were numerous shades of the same hue. Red, scarlet, crimson, maroon, burgundy, cardinal, salmon. Natural and vibrant, that swam with life and light in their very fibers, as endless as the horizon.**_

Richie recalled a time when Virgil had answered his call for a better light source in the gas station with the discarded Christmas lights. At the time, it had been just after Christmas, and Virgil had surprised Richie with the lights threaded around the main room of the gas station. They had never gotten around to taking them down.

In truth, Richie didn't have the heart. They reminded him too much of what had transpired after the introduction of the lights.

Which reminded him of what had transpired every Wednesday night for the past few months.

His smile vanished and was replaced by an awkward feeling in his legs, like they had turned to jello. He wavered on the spot, and sought out a place to sit, to regain his nerve.

Was it Wednesday already?

_**The hand held its treasure delicately, examining it for start to finish, taking in every detail. **_

Of course. It had to be Wednesday. He had known it was anyway, of course, he was a super genius after all, but the full effect of the day hit him and he felt his knees go weaker.

Richie Foley sat down at the computer desk chair in front of him. He wasn't sure if he would regain the use of his legs any time soon.

He ran his fingers through his hair, and tried to reel his nerve back in.

It was Wednesday, which meant two things for Richie and his partner. One, that it would be a slow night on the crime scene. Most Wednesdays they got no action at all.

Well, in one sense of the word anyway.

Another thing that Wednesdays meant was...well..

Richie sighed and closed his eyes frustratedly.

The point was that Wednesdays were always the slowest on the crime scene.

Which is why eventually the two boys had found something to occupy their time these days.

_**This particular thread was a bright cherry, and it was also not alone. It was tangled with a deep burgundy colored strand in several places. **_

At first, it had just been experimenting. Just awkward semi-romantic fumblings between the two friends. At the time, it had been OK, since neither of them had any real experience with any girls, and this way, they could practice without fear. It was comfortable Richie had to admit, and the lack of attachment afterward made it easy to laugh off the effects of the afterglow.

Then senior year came around, and Richie had finally worked up the nerve to admit his sexuality to Virgil. Though the other boy was determined to not let Richie's homosexuality change their relationship, all of the sexual contact between them stopped for a while. Though this lightly bothered Richie, he found other ways and other people to find his release. So did Virgil. If it had not been for Richie's feelings for the other boy, the two could have coexisted like this for some time without complaint from either side.

But of course, Richie _did_ have feelings for the other teen. And had for some time.

Funny how fate worked like that.

_**The threads were interwoven, inseparable because of the vast amount of knots that danced across the fibers. The knots were extensive and complicated , much like the threads themselves.**_

But when both boys started college together a year later, the contact between them inexplicably resumed. Eventually with time they had moved on to more _advanced _activities. In the past few months they had found a semi-comfortable routine in which to practice these activities.

In short, Wednesdays were the nights that Richie and Virgil reserved for each other, and all that that implies.

"_but today...has to be different..."_ thought Richie to himself.

He was determined for it to be different.

Different because, even though they had continued their sexual relationship, Virgil had also continued various relationships with other girls. Daisy and Freida had long since been lost for other college girls who Virgil was admittedly involved with at any given time. Richie however, had found that he could no longer hide the truth behind emotionless sex.

And the truth was that Richie loved Virgil.

He winced at the passion that reared behind the words in his head, like a restrained animal. It clawed at his insides, begging for more than just physical release. It was enough to send the bespectacled boy's heart into a hurried pace.

That, and the fact that he knew that Virgil could be with him one night, and Lola or Kim the next without even a second thought. It made his heart feel more broken than he cared to admit.

Between aching and running races, Richie's heart was marginally overworked when it came to Virgil, this he knew for certain.

In truth, Wednesdays used to be his favorite nights. He didn't care that the moments that passed between them had little to no emotional value to Virgil. All Richie cared about was being with the other boy in ways that he had thought he would be forever barred. He could almost believe that the boy laying with him on their old worn out couch in the gas station was actually his. It wasn't hard to believe a blatant lie within the relaxed afterglow of whatever activities they had chosen for the night.

But lately, Richie had started to hate Wednesdays.

Because, no matter how easy it was to pretend, those precious moments between them were temporary. Come morning, everything was back to normal, like Cinderella at the strike of twelve.

And though he didn't want to admit it, Richie had noticed that lately Virgil didn't seem to care. The other boy had seemed to make it his mission to push away any and all of Richie's attempts to talk about their relationship. In truth, Richie had tried before to tell Virgil how he felt. Of course, being his best friend and sometimes lover, Virgil always knew the best way to shut Richie up, and Richie had yet to come up with the best way to fight back. He was powerless against the weapons that his partner used against him, because honestly, how hard could he resist the one thing that he wanted most?

There was a small clamor at the door as another figure entered noisily.

"Man Richie, what are you locking the door for? You know its just me!" said Virgil half smirking as he regarded his best friend and closed the door.

Richie's heart did a back flip.

_**The two threads were strongest at their bonds. The cherry one seemed to glow its brightest crimson when it was close to its darker companion, even in the presence of the knots that danced across both of their surfaces.**_

Richie looked up at Virgil. He thought his heart was being a little melodramatic. Virgil was, with all his faults, still Richie's best friend, even though there relationship had taken an odd turn in the past few months.

He felt slightly guilty at the thought of their friendship. A part of Richie told himself that he didn't have to do this, that it was not too late to back out and continue this comfortable pattern. It didn't have the end this way.

Richie bit his lip.

But it did have to end, that he was certain. And it had to end now, before there was nothing left to salvage from Richie's battered heart. Dramatic? Yes. True?

Unfortunately, yes.

"V, we gotta talk." Said Richie, trying to sound a little more original than his line actually was.

Virgil stopped from hanging up his thin coat and looked at the other boy. "Man rich, your scaring me. Those are the last words of way too many relationships." He said, not noticing how close he had hit the heart of Richie's words.

Richie swallowed, but couldn't find where to start. Virgil took the initiative, sat on the desk in front of Richie and tried to smile. "So...whats up?". Richie could hear the fear in his voice, expertly covered by a smile. Richie shuffled uncomfortably before answering.

"Well...um....I..." Richie turned red and swiveled the chair around.

"Come on rich, out with it man!" said Virgil, impatiently.

It was now or never.

"...I got accepted into Harvard."

There was a silence. Just silence. And then a chuckle. Richie spun his chair around to find Virgil's smiling face beaming upon him.

"Man, _harsh._ I think you'll be Harvard's first 'no' from an acceptable." Virgil's smile widened and a look of relief washed over his eyes. "Why would you apply just to turn them down man?" he asked lightly.

Richie stared incredulously at the boy in front of him. He was quiet, not knowing how to address the problem. Virgil's laughter died a slow death as confusion blossomed on his face. Richie decided to answer before any questions were asked.

"I'm going. In the spring."

Virgil was silent. Richie took the silence and pressed on.

"I sent it in a few weeks ago. They wouldn't have taken such a late entry but given my...circumstance, they made an exception." Still more silence on Virgil's end. Richie looked at him and tried to examine his expression. So far all he could see was confusion. Richie moved onward. "my parents are reall--"

"You're leaving?"

Richie took a moment, and nodded.

Virgil looked away for a moment, lost eye contact with the other boy and something deep and melancholy passed through his eyes.

But he recovered quickly.

_**The fated hand passed the two threads over in its fingers. The knotted parts of the two threads were the most vivid spots and held fast whenever tested, it noted dully. It was common. **_

"That's uh....that's great Richie. I'm...that's great." Virgil managed to choke out, still not looking at the boy opposite him. Richie raised an eyebrow.

Something broke in his friends eyes. He could see it, almost as if it were a tangible thing. Before Richie could acknowledge the change, or even speak, Virgil was upon him, fast and quiet, closing the gap between them.

After months of seeing it in action Richie was not surprised by the other boys quick reflex's.

No, it certainly wasn't that.

What he was surprised by was the abrupt change in subject and emotion. He had not expected this kind reaction.

Not that he wasn't enjoying it.

"Well just have to make your last days count..." came Virgil's voice in his ear, deep, and barely above a whisper.

Richie shivered at energy in the response.

_**Some spots where frayed and worn down from the amount of contact from the other thread, but the two strings always returned, becoming more and more interlaced as their length went on. Though the amount of knots and tangles were common, the strength binding them was not. **_

At that moment, their lips met. Like so many times before, Richie was used to the contact by now, but this time was different. There was something more in this kiss, something desperate and searching on one end.

But whatever thoughts that tried to surface from Virgil's odd behavior were silenced by the deepening fog in Richie's mind as he returned the kiss without a second thought.

This was his weakness, he could no longer deny it. For the past months he had avoided the question of why his ever cluttered and demanding mind had always decided to silence itself right when Virgil was near, but now he saw it, clear as day.

Still, he felt something nagging him behind the fog, begging for him to stop his charade and continue with the task at hand. What that task was, Richie had forgotten the moment their lips made contact, but he still felt something urging him to stop this wonderful, amazing activity in the back of his mind.

However all bothersome worries were instantly silenced when Richie felt Virgil's tongue glide across his lips. For the moment his thoughts were blissfully absent as he reveled in the familiar and exhilarating feel of the boy in front of him.

Richie opened his mouth in silent permission for the other boy to enter, which he did so without any other movement. The paler boy cupped the darker teens face in his hands and let out a low noise from deep within his throat. In response Virgil's hands snaked under his shirt, warm from the constant hum of heat from the electricity that always pounded his veins. Richie's breath hitched as those same hands moved, one resting on the small of his back and the other moving to a slightly lower region near his navel.

A barely audible whimper escaped Richie's lips as the mouth that had been covering them moved onto other places. He could feel, rather than see Virgil's lips ghosting the pale skin on his neck. His un-manly whimper quickly turned to a contented moan. Virgil let out a low chuckle as he pulled up towards the bespectacled boy's ear. Richie could feel teeth brush against his cartilage before the other boy spoke.

"Harvard huh?" Virgil breathed, and it sent tremors down his opposites spine.

With the lost contact of the Virgil's lips, the fog in Richie's mind dissipated slightly. The distant nagging was back. He ignored it and concentrated on the smooth voice in his ear.

"Richie, always the over-achiever." The hand that had been previously floating at Richie's navel had now moved down to the belt at his jeans. The worry flared up and made Richie bite his lip as he tried to restrain his physical response to the voice in his ear. Meanwhile, the voice in his head was gaining momentum. Richie barely heard the 'no' that escaped his lips over the rush of blood in his veins.

"Do you really think you could survive without me?". It took a moment for the words to sink in.

But once they had, Richie's eyes sprang open. The sudden trip back to reality was almost painful. Somewhere he felt his limbs take the initiative and push the darker teen off of him. All his control was focused on keeping their eyes locked. He had to keep eye contact, or he knew he would surrender to his opposite again, and this time, he wouldn't resurface until the act had been committed.

"Richie, what---" came Virgil's protests.

"V...man...we have to stop this." Richie's voice faltered at the last word.

"Stop what?"

"This...this...everything!"

"What?"

"Don't you get it! That's why I have to leave, I have to go--"

"Richie what are you talking about?"

"The only way this is going to end is if I leave! This has to stop Virgil!"

"What are you even...why?"

"because...because I..."

Richie found that he could no longer speak while looking at the boy opposite him. Virgil's expressions had gone from angry, to confused to hurt all in the span of their 15 second conversation. Richie swiveled his chair around and willed himself to close his eyes. It was now or never. Again.

"Because I love you V." Silence greeted his words. A long silence. After a moment, Richie stood still not facing the silent boy behind him. "I love you Virgil." he repeated. No matter how many times he said it the silence did not become any less crushing. It dragged on, choking any attempt at facing his opposite that Richie tried.

Moments later he heard the strain of the weight from the desk being removed. He felt a hand at his shoulder and knew that the other boy had gotten up noiselessly and crossed the distance between them.

"Richie, I..." Virgil pressed his lips together, biting them down hard to prevent the words that were fighting there way into focus. He decided to choose a less obvious route. "You don't have to go halfway across the country because of that."

Richie shrugged off the hand on his shoulder. He whipped around and found himself staring at Virgil incredulously.

"Don't you get it?" He whispered menacingly, his eyes reducing to slits with every word.

Virgil raised en eyebrow. "I think your being a bit over dramatic with this one Rich. You cant just--"

"See! _This_ is why I have to leave. I finally tell you that I fucking _love_ you and you completely ignore it, like its nothing!" Richie screamed. "I cant stay here, not when I'm always going to be shoved aside for anything in a skirt within a 10 foot radius. I'm not going to put my future on hold for a _boy _that cant even make up his mind! I'm sick of being second best Virgil, and I'm _sick _of you ignoring how you feel just so you can--

"So I can _what R_ichie? Huh?" Any softness that lingered in Virgil's face vanished and was replaced with a look that he often gave his opponents while in his static uniform. Richie challenged this expression with one that mirrored it on his own face.

"_So you can pretend that nothing is going to change! _Where not in fucking high school anymore Virgil, were not kids anymore!" Raged Richie, waving his hands in exasperation.

Virgil was quiet a moment. If anything his silence only gave more fuel to the fire raging on in Richie's mind.

However when he did speak, he was voice was cold and reserved. "Second best to who Richie?"

_**The burgundy thread mimicked its opposites pattern of intensity, but it was much more concealed behind its stoic exterior. But still, with an eye of a trained fate, one could see that something was there.**_

Richie let out a growl of frustration and turned around, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly.. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

"Don't give me that bullshit. To _everyone._" He turned yet again to face the other boy. He was starting to get dizzy. "Do you know how hard it is to be in love with you, and then have to watch you constantly chase chicks every day? Do you?". Richie's voice was determinately softer than before. Virgil bit his lip.

"Why are you even worried? They don't even matter." Richie laughed bitterly.

"Yeah, and apparently neither do I."

"No!...no that's not it..." Said Virgil on the defensive.

"Yeah? Really?" Richie scoffed. He walked away from Virgil and grabbed the coat on the back of the chair. He stood still the moment he draped it over his shoulder without facing the other boy. Virgil stood in the same spot Richie had left him in, looking slightly stunned. Richie walked over to him and spoke softly. "I'm sick of you playing me man. Who do you think you're kidding anyway? I'm not 16 anymore V. I cant wait for you. I cant--"

Within a heartbeat Virgil had closed the distance between them one more time. His lips were quick and slightly electric, desperately pressed against Richie's mouth and stifling anymore words. For a blissful moment, Richie contemplated just letting go of all this anger and pain from the sting of unrequited love. It was truly a blissful thought, because he knew that the unspoken words in Virgil's kiss were silently pleading for him to stay anyway.

But he also knew that even if he stuck around for the kiss and whatever followed, the feelings would not retreat. If there was one thing he had learned in the past few months it was this; he could try to subdue his love all he wanted with emotionless endeavors, but _nothing _would ever compare to the real thing.

Richie felt his fingers push against Virgil's chest. The sound of their lips disconnecting echoed around them. Virgil's eyes blinked open.

For a moment they stared at each other. One pair of eyes were determined and defeated, the other, was confused and hurt. In both of them flashed something deeper.

_**Of course something was there. Something pure, and beautiful. Something so perfect and divine, it was almost a mockery to the fates curious fingers.**_

Richie shook his head as if the movement would dispel any thoughts that fought with his resolve. He walked toward the door.

Virgil whipped around. He stared at the boy's back for a moment, something in him screaming to be let out. This time his pride wasn't as quick to suppress it and he opened his mouth to speak.

"Ric--"

A loud beeping noise sounded from a docked and offline backpack.

_**Tempting. So very tempting. Such a beautiful, flawless thing on such an earth of ugly and frayed. **_

Richie rushed to the little robot and checked the front plate screen. Virgil stood rooted on the spot, staring at the back of his partner.

"There's a robbery on 8th and Moors. Definitely a bang-baby attack. Looks like there's just one of them though." said Richie is a cold and indifferent voice. After reading the news he tapped backpack 2 times and woke the machine from its 'slumber'. Something in Virgil swelled up in hope. Richie would have to stick around for 'gear and static' business, wouldn't he?

To Virgil's dismay the other boy turned heel and began to turn the doorknob. The warm feeling of hope that had made itself known before shattered mercilessly.

"Richie, please--" Virgil could feel his voice break at the last word.

"I have to go."

_**It was all so tempting. **_

Within moments the other boy was gone and Virgil was left with a cold emptiness in his place.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh god, I hate college so much you guys. You dont even know. Between college and losing my job, I dont have time for ANYTHING. drawing, writing, NOTHING. ;____;

But I did find some time to write this on a snow day! Hope you guys enjoy it!

Only 2 more chapters to go in this thing, and then I can concentrate on Blackout. In the meantime, HERE, HAVE SOME ANGST :)

Disclaimers: its prolly a good thing that I DON'T own static shock, becuase I would torture these two like this ALL THE TIME.

* * *

_**The threads gave a slight tremble towards the middle. A new knot. **_

The sound of the door connecting with its frame could crumble cities, Virgil was sure. In his past the young superhero had faced cunning villains bent on his destruction, deranged masterminds in the art of terror determined to take down his city, and just downright scary people.

But never in his whole life could Virgil remember feeling so terrified, so powerless, that he actually couldn't breathe.

_**And a particularly complicated and dreadful one at that, unique in its bond compared to the other knots that dotted the threads exteriors. **_

Like any other person he had seen tragedy in his life. Terrible things had happened to him that no person should ever have had to face in alone.

But he had not been alone.

When his mother died, and the first tragedy struck his life, he had felt he would never get better. He was young, and was so sure that he would never smile or laugh again.

But then, out of the scant goodness left in the world, he met Richie. He met him on a crowded playground on a day when his mourning could no longer be an excuse to miss school. He had sat next to Richie during recess, not realizing that he was looking at the boy that would soon become his best friend, and never dared to look back.

Since then, whenever life had dealt him a bad hand, he had always remembered that he was not alone in this world, that he had already found someone worth living for, someone worth fighting back the cruelty of the world for.

And that person had stormed out the door into the cold just 2 minutes earlier. In the time that it had taken Richie's absence to fully hit him, Virgil had collapsed to the floor, unable to move an inch and unable to connect with the world around him. Something on the other side of his conscience was begging him to get up, pleading to him that there was something more pressing that needed his attention. But that voice whispered, whereas another voice drowned it out with its deafening cry. Virgil could hear Richie's plans to leave him sounding off in his head. With each word he could feel a terrible hole beginning to form in his chest.

"_I'm going. In the spring."_

The hole finally broke free of its bonds and began to split his chest in two.

"_We have to stop this."_

It felt like his ribs were caving in. He was sure that breathing had never been this difficult before.

"_I'm sick of being second best"_

With every breath he could feel his chest burn back in response, the hole completely taking over. He felt something wet stinging the corners of his eyes.

"_I cant wait for you."_

He could feel the pressure on his chest attack his heart.. He could hear it in his ears, fighting with no reprieve. He could feel himself loosing momentum, surrendering to the terrible pain in his center. Surely he was having a heart attack, or some other stress related fit. Surely he was dying, and hours later someone would find him here, unresponsive and curled into a ball on the floor. This had to be it, the end. It...had to be.

And he secretly wanted it to be.

But through the darkness of surrender he could hear another voice. Though equally pained in its delivery, it was still clear and miraculous, ringing in his mind like a bell.

"_I love you Virgil."_

_**This particular knot was unlike the others. It was a considerable size larger than most of the other clusters of thread, and in the very middle, a red glow permeated the determined darkness. **_

It echoed and repeated, a constant song lending him its strength.

For a moment, the hole in his chest subsided as his heart skipped a beat. Despite the urgency of the situation, Virgil felt something warm slowly blossom within him. It was familiar, and he was sure that he felt it often, though this time he allowed it to swell inside of him instead of fighting it back. The warmth focused in his chest and stopped the pain forming there. It soothed his panicked heart and gave him enough strength to get off of his knees and stand.

Not really remembering how they got there he removed his hands from his face and let this feeling spread. It was difficult to keep it alive with Richie's angry and hurt voice echoing around the walls of his head.

But one voice was louder than the others.

"_V, I love you."_

Before he had realized that he was moving, he had taken the few strides to the door and closed his hand around the knob. He would go after him...he would stop him and...and...

He took a deep breath, turned the handle, and was immediately greeted by the fresh air from a nearby breeze.

After giving the junkyard a quick glace the strength within him faltered a bit. He found that he truly was alone, that Richie had actually left him only moments before. But the warmth, however dampened by the hopelessness of his situation, stayed with him, and as Virgil looked at the threatening clouds above, he finally realized what this feeling meant.

_**The red glow from the darker strand seemed to become stronger. The possessor of the blackened hand vaguely wondered if the ever tightening knot had brought upon this revelation. Cracked lips curved into a smile as it realized that this was true, and that this realization was unbearably late.**_

Despite the shear irony and grim aura of the situation, Virgil could not help but blink at the force of the feeling within him. He closed his eyes and let it swallow him whole, feeling the goosebumps that appeared in response. Around him the wind picked up and greeted his face. He could feel the cool air rushing about him, pushing away his dreads, making the nearby trees bend and sway, rustling the leaves until they sounded like the endless waves on the sea. He could feel the electricity focusing in his fingertips and running along his arms in perfect synchronization with his shallow breaths.

Yes. He was sure of what he was feeling. Even though it was terrifying and risky, he was sure of its presence now. And ignoring it was no longer an option.

His eyes opened as his head tilted skyward. The clouds ahead bore down upon him, either promising rain or threatening a storm.

The other boy would no doubt have to be convinced. Virgil's actions previously had no doubt scarred him into the defensive side of the fence. Virgil's frown deepened as he remembered what he had done to get Richie to change his mind. He felt stupid and ashamed that he had resorted to such foul play in order to get what he wanted.

Furthermore, he was angry with himself for not seeing it sooner. Did it really take loosing his better half for him to realize how he felt? He looked to the left as something in his mind offered a sound _"yes"_. He could not defend himself. Of course he had known how he felt, he had figured it out a little bit after they had started college together, but he had never thought that it would ever come back to him. He thought that what they did every Wednesday, what they had been doing for the past few months, would be enough. Other girls? They were just a hormone induced distraction, something to take his mind off the growing feelings that simmered under the surface. For what college freshman, with as many failed pre-teen romances under their belt as Virgil had, would actually believe that they were in love, the real thing, at the tender age of 19?

No, he had thought that these feelings would pass. They would run their course and he and Richie would be able to salvage their friendship and forget all about their insane college escapades.

But the event of Richie ever liking him back had never really occurred to Virgil. He felt a little stupid, for now with the reassurance that he was right, all of clues pointing to Richie's true feelings were laid out for him to see in an almost mocking fashion.

But how he had missed it was not the question at the moment.

The question was...was...what was that beeping noise?

The annoying sound brought him out of his thoughts. He realized that it had been going on for a while and he had simply ignored it. The nagging voice in the very back of his mind finally gained a face as backpack tugged on the bottom of his jeans. The little machine must have thought that Virgil was going to leave to fight crime in his street clothes.

The crime information flashed across the screen that Richie had installed on backpack a few months ago. The machine beeped once more in urgency.

Virgil returned his hand to his hair. He wanted to go get Richie _now. _He wanted to apologize, and explain his harsh actions before. He wanted to plead for him to stay and to finally, _finally _tell Richie how he felt.

But he knew it would have to wait.

He felt slightly guilty at this thought. However, he knew it was right. He was a super hero, and though the situation he faced with Richie was Virgil's top priority right now, it was not Static's. Static was a superhero, and above all things, his job was to protect Dakota.

After all, what could happen to Richie within the time it would take Virgil to nip one bang baby badie in the bud? It would be a quick job. In, out, and then off to Richie's pad to apologize. It might even give the other boy time to cool down so that he wouldn't verbally attack Virgil on site.

_**The knot gave yet another shutter and...began to uncoil slightly. The smile upon the fates face vanished and was replaced by the darkness. **_

Mind set, Virgil patted backpack on the case two times and ran off into the back room to change.


	3. Chapter 3

...Hi? Long time no see :D

Yeah I know, I have no excuse. NONE. But hey, I'm here, right! Lets jump right into it, shall we?

Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own static shock. But hey, maybe that's a good thing. If I did, they would prolly be battling silent hill monsters like this all the time. JUST FOR MY OWN ENJOYMENT. :D

* * *

Virgil had to admit, this bang baby was just as determined as she was misleading.

_**It was brighter and more intense than the other knots all together. And this one was mutual, both threads fraying and wearing away at its intensity.**_

Earlier when he had come to the scene on 8th and Moors the street had been completely deserted, even considering that it was almost 6 in the evening. The street was empty, devoid of any movement, save for the torn power lines swinging haphazardly in the wind. Weird though, they didn't seem to hold in any electrical current. There were no sparks, no glow, and Virgil could feel the metal growing cold from lack of use.

He turned his attention to the center of the street, where a giant crater split across the pavement. The hardened tar had cracked, and fallen in on itself, like a great sinkhole had opened up in the middle of the 4-way intersection. The crater was large enough to reach the edges of the sidewalks, which cracked and gave way to the strange downward bend. Two police cruisers close to the center of the giant hole lay upside down. They were charred, blackened; the paint on them fading on the sides facing the center of the giant concrete depression. In some places, it looked like it had been burned off, decayed away at an accelerated pace until only the rusty metal underneath was exposed.

In the very middle of the crater was a small figure covered in dirty rags. Virgil looked around exasperatedly. He was alone. He couldn't even see curious faces pressed into the windows of the shops and buildings surrounding the scene. He had no witnesses, no back-up. Where was everyone?

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled haphazardly. It felt like a warning. The sound of it echoed all around, and Virgil noticed the figure in front of him give a violent tremble in response to the sound.

He angled his disk downward, and dropped onto the broken pavement, folding the thin sheet of metal and stowing it in his belt. He stepped closer to the person covered in rags in the center of the hole, where the charred tar was the darkest. The figure was small, thin; their skin was-for lack of a better word-completely colorless. It had long dirty hair that reached the black tar below. From this angle, Virgil felt like he was approaching a very small, extremely scared little girl.

"Um...you there..." He paused, not sure what to say. Maybe she was hurt. He quickened his pace. "I can help you."

Virgil reached out a gloved hand, and lightly touched her shoulder.

It was at that moment everything changed.

The glove that covered is hand singed at the contact with the girl's skin; the fabric deconstructing and burning away at an accelerated pace.

Virgil tore his hand away and let out a cry of pain, but the damage was done. He could feel his power slipping out of his control. Entire bolts of white hot electricity poured from the hand that had made the connection, raining around the figure in front of him. The gold metal of his now burned-away glove glowed in the intensity of the heat.

The figure in front of static soared into the air like a puppet being pulled upward by its strings. Her arms outstretched, her pale skin glowing, and her long dirty hair flowing around her as if underwater. Her mouth was open in a silent scream that he couldn't hear, that was lost in the clamor of the thunder around them. Her eyes were screwed up in pain, and her entire body trembled frenziedly.

Panicked, Virgil tried to reel his powers in, but it was useless. His entire right hand felt hot and numb from the inside. It was like it had fallen asleep, paralyzed and prickling before the blood could rush back to it. The pins and needles climbed up to his forearm at a quickened pace, letting loose more jolts of lightning. It flew out of his hand, from his very fingertips, dancing on the charred pavement and illuminating the whole street with its white glow.

Virgil gave out a cry of pain. The electricity flowing from his immobilized arm—_his_ electricity—was actually burning him. Virgil could feel his own electrostatic powers burn on his skin, a feeling completely alien to him. And he was powerless to stop it. Fear flooded inside him, causing his breath to catch in his chest.

Above him, the girl was frozen in midair, her skin glowing brighter and brighter until the rags covering it were burned away. Her hair began to whip wildly around her, her mouth opening wider in a noiseless scream. The white light that spilled from her body was blinding, burning; casting unreal shadows on the buildings surrounding them, draining them of all their color at a rapid pace. The girls face twisted in further pain.

Her eyes burst open suddenly, completely white, and unseeing. The painful expression on her face froze for a moment.

She dropped from the sky.

The electricity pouring from Virgil's hand ceased immediately. He could feel the pain subside, and the control returning to his arm. Without thinking, or even breathing, he scrambled backward, as far away from the crater and the small unmoving figure in front of him. The more space the better. This was not a time for cowardice, yes, but it was also not the time to be killed in the act of heroism either.

He needed back-up.

Once a solid 6 yards away from the creature, he looked up. He could feel sweat coating his brow from the force of the attack. Even with his regained control of his powers, the arm that had fallen prey to the assault seemed heavy and drained. This was no ordinary bang baby. Hell, he wasn't even sure if it was a bang baby at all.

He needed gear

_**The sheer power of the glow intrigued the blackened hands, enticed them.**_

Virgil reached for his shock vox. Calling for help wasn't the most macho thing to do, and he was sure Richie was still angry with him, but at this moment he didn't care. The fear that had blossomed in the pit of his chest earlier expanded, as if the silence was a warning of worse things to come. He looked around, took in the completely deserted street, the cracked pavement dotted with burns, the overturned cars, the colors bleeding from the very paint of the buildings, as if it had been burned away, leeched in the intensity of an unknown light. His eyes fell on the still figure in the center of the giant concrete basin. She looked almost innocent, in danger of being swallowed up by the blackened abyss of tar.

Virgil pressed down on the transmission button, ready to relay his panicked situation to his partner.

The moment his hand pressed down on the knob however, a horrible ear-splitting screech echoed around the empty street.

The thing in the crater shook at the sound, her entire body trebling madly as the noise lingered. Virgil looked down at the shock vox, and pulled his finger away from the button, instantly silencing the sound. The body in front of him grew still once more.

Somehow, his signal had been lost. Had he damaged his shock vox? No, couldn't be, it was resistant to his powers.

Then _what?_

Something in his mind pulled him to backpacks garbled transmission, the one that had called him to this grisly scene a mere 20 minutes prior, when Richie had left him behind. Usually backpacks radio alerts were crystal clear.

But not this one.

He took his eyes off his shock vox to stare at the center of the crater. The girl had yet to move again, she lay still as a ragdoll in the middle of the street.

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe that was the worst of it.

Then again, maybe not.

A small charred hand flew out from a mess of dirty hair. Her head stared at the ground below her, covered in long curtains of lifeless hair that hung around her, making it impossible to see her face. Her arms moved outward, as if she were trying to crawl, clawing at the resilient pavement.

But she was changing. Something was wrong. Her thin arms began to grow, becoming thinner, and longer, than what was strictly proportionate. The barely-gray skin that was now exposed began to quiver, and change. It flayed, and scarred before Virgil's very eyes, growing darker and more damaged with the seconds. The structure beneath seemed to break, and re-mend within moments, exposing bare bones. Her spinal cord ripped at the skin on her exposed back, tearing it away as if it were made of tissue paper, exposing the blackened bones underneath. Virgil's eyes widened in shock and fear of the thing changing in front of him.

The creature in front of him finally looked up, its face hideously mutated, stretched out. The eyes reduced to white slits closer to the hairline than what was strictly normal. The mouth was missing. Where it used to be, was a burn, scarred and ugly, twisting the face into something unrecognizable, terrifying. Her overlong arms and legs shot out from her like a spiders legs, the shape of the bones exposed through paper thin, burned away skin. Her spine curving outward, rather than inward, so that she had a hunched look about her, the blackened bones peaking out like spikes through her neck and back. She flexed her skinny limbs, taking a step forward, moving like a boney, otherworldly crab.

Virgil froze on the spot, unable to move, unable to scream, unable to run. He had never encountered anything like this. Fear paralyzed him. Even when her long sharp fingertips began to crackle with sparks, and every nerve in his body screamed that he run, he remained rooted on the spot, unable to do anything more than feel the fear rise up in his chest, choking him.

From somewhere high, and to his right, silver streaked through the sky. It made contact with the beast, and burst with a familiar electrical glow.

_**Even when it glowed its brightest, even though the strands seemed to flay and burn away with it, they held fast, and did not waver. This, was uncommon.**_

"Static, what are you waiting for!" Gear screamed at his partner down below. The zap cap had done nothing to its target, except for make the strange creature shiver. Was it Gear's imagination, or had it simply...absorbed the electricity from the zap cap? The sparks were supposed to last longer than that.

Much longer.

He looked around and noticed the snapped power lines, none of them with any power left in them. He snatched a glance at his partner, still frozen in place, staring at the creature in front of him with an odd expression on his face.

Panic boiled inside Richie.

"Static, come ON! _Fly already!"_ Gear called down to his partner.

Virgil had heard his partner's voice, had seen the zap cap soar through the sky and meet its target. It was as if that familiar voice jumpstarted his entire being. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He could catch his breath; feel the cool humid air rise in his lungs. He could hear the panic in Gear's voice as he screamed the second time.

He was in danger.

The second call was all it took. He whipped his disk out from his belt, and called his powers forward, jumping in midair before the thin sheet of metal was even fully unfolded. He soared into the air, grateful for some space from the horrible creature below, the fresh rain-scented air filling his lungs as he took another deep bracing breath, clearing his mind.

He looked to his right and his partner floated on his skates, looked strangely at him.

"Dude, what the hell, you just— "

"Its not a bang baby Gear. It can absorb my powers!"

"Oh I get it, so your second plan of action was to stare it to death? What the— "

"Richie, Im not kidding, we have to get the hell out of here!"

Gear stopped at the mention of his actual name. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend and partner, saw the alarm in his eyes, even through the mask. He looked down at the creature below them. It was circling, scuttling about like some horrible insect searching for prey. It couldn't look up, he noticed, the curvature of its exposed spine wouldn't allow it. They were in its blind spot.

Gear looked back up to his best friend and glided closer, so that they could speak without screams.

"Virgil. Virg. Look at me." Statics eyes— Virgil's eyes— were terrified. His powers were useless to this creature. This was a nightmare. "We've faced worse before." Said Richie, in the calmest voice he could muster.

"No. Richie, its not like that. One minute, she was small and harmless! The next, she leeched my powers man, and turned—" He pointed downward, an angry look on his face "into _that_! What are we going to do?"

"Its got to have a weakness. Everything has a weakness." Richie said, looking at his partner squarely in the face.

Virgil looked away and ran a nervous hand through his dreadlocks. Hearing his partner's voice was slowly clearing his head, the panic melting away and being replaced by relief. Richie was here. Gear had come back for him. Virgil didn't even need to shock vox him. He had come back on his own.

"The shock vox..."

"Huh?"

Virgil's mind was racing. The clouds over head rumbled softly, and he could see the lightning somewhere in the distance. The storm would be upon them soon, and his powers would be shorted due to the rain. He had to talk fast.

"Gear. The shock voxs. I tried to call you, and when I did, the radio wasn't working. It made this wicked loud noise, and it— " He gestured toward the creature below "— started to freak out. It happened with thunder too!"

Richie stared at his partner. The moment he had left Virgil behind, he knew it was a bad idea. He saw him leave on his disk, saw him fly away alone. Richie had followed him, knowing that his uneasy feeling couldn't be without reason.

He had been right. He wracked his super brain to put together the pieces.

The radio frequency of their shock voxs had been knocked out from some unknown block. Even the radio transmission from backpack, which was always perfectly audible, was distorted. The power lines around the scene had been severed and now couldn't carry a charge. The street below was burned and deserted, even the police cruisers. The creature reacted, for the most part, positively to electricity. What did all this mean?

Richie looked below. The 'bang baby' was still there, though slightly more agitated now, crawling about in frantic circles, but making no noise while doing so.

"It's worth a try." Richie said looking back up at his partner. "Using your electricity isn't an option; you saw how it just tossed off that zap cap?"

Virgil nodded. He looked at the determination on his best friends face.

"I think it might be sensitive to sound. Or maybe just particular radio frequencies. Either way, I think if I got a minute, I can make our shock voxs into something we can use. Hand yours over."

Virgil hesitated.

Even though they had fought not 30 minutes prior, Richie had come back for him. Richie, his best friend, who couldn't just let Virgil rush into battle without backup, came back for him, even without the distress signal. Richie, who Virgil knew was still mad at him, but not mad enough to let him get hurt in the line of duty.

There would be time later to talk about…everything. In a few hours, they would be back at the gas station, worn out from the battle they had just won, like so many times before. They wouldn't argue. There would be no desperate curses, or arms thrown into the air in exasperation. They would figure out the truth about each other, and everything would be better, everything prior forgiven.

Virgil was sure of it.

But for now, they had a job to do, and failure wasn't an option.

"Let's do this bro" Said Virgil, unhooking the small metal box from his belt and dropping it into the open palm of the superhero opposite him.

Richie smiled without looking up at his partner.

"Distract it. I'll be your DJ for tonight."

_**Dark, decaying fingers trembled with anticipation. It would be foolish to let a bond like this go unchallenged. An insult even. It was irresistible**_


	4. Chapter 4

WOW. WELL. UM. I GO MISSING ALOT. YEAH.

Anyway, Chapter 4, fresh out the oven. I'm gonna wrap this story up SOON, so expect another update accordingly. Remember to rate and review, I really enjoy reading your comments. FROM ALL OF YOU LOVELY PEOPLE. 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story (except for maybe that freaky bang baby, and I don't even WANT her), and I'm not making any sort of cash from this. So um. Don't sue me. ;)

* * *

Virgil soared below, just in time for the first droplet of rain to hit his bare skin. It sizzled and dried up almost instantly as it made contact with his electrically charged skin. He looked skyward, and willed the clouds to hold their fire. He needed to be able to fly.

"Hey! Ugly!" He screamed. It was the best taunt he could think of at the moment, and anyway, it got her attention. Her head whipped around, wiry hair moving with it. She had heard her prey rather than saw with her unseeing white eyes. Sparks crackled at her sharp fingertips.

High above, Gear watched as static dodged a swipe of long crackling claws. The creatures aim wasn't as precise as it could have been. Its movements were based on sound, the monster aiming her attacks at where Virgil's voice had been moments before. In this sense, Virgil had the advantage. He could fly, and avoid her sharp, electrically charged talons. But she was fast. At any movement, or any sound, even the gentle hum of Virgil's electricity, she pounced. Virgil narrowly missed a blow to the shoulder when backpack made a quick noise of protest as Richie relayed information to the small robot attached to his back.

"Sorry buddy. I'll need to borrow these." Gear had opened a small compartment in the underbelly of his invention. With a yank at a blue wire, backpack went silent, its technopathic connection to Gear its only form of communication now. Gear fumbled with the shock vox, ripping open the back casing, and trying to connect wires as quickly as his fingers would allow. He took off a glove restricting his precision and tossed it aside, where it fell to the street almost 30 feet below.

Finally, he had succeeded in connecting the transmission receptor to the amplification wire he had taken from backpack. This would play every radio transmission in a readable radius, re-amplify it, and repeat it, causing a noise that Gear was sure would sound like the radio equivalent of 3000 nails on a chalkboard.

Or at least, that was the theory.

Backpack signaled him through his visor, and he whipped around on his skates. The alert was too late however, and Virgil collided with him in midair, knocking out his connection to his skates and sending him hurling towards the charred pavement.

He crashed into hard black concrete. The air was knocked out of him, his eyes flying open, and then shut with the force of the fall. The modified shock vox had tumbled out of his hand on impact. Richie could hear the sickening crunch of his partner landing somewhere to his right, the noisy clatter of his metal disk as it made contact with the pavement.

Richie's eyes shot open, just in time to see the creature rearing forward towards the noise.

Towards Virgil.

Richie felt his heart sink.

Richie's reflexes however, were faster than his genius mind. The cold metal of the zap trap left his ungloved hand before he even noticed that he had reached for it. There was a metallic snatch, and he heard the creature slam into one of the over turned police cruisers.

Richie sprang up. His whole body was aching from the fall. Had it not been for his helmet, he was sure he would be unconscious like his partner. He outstretched his arms and hands, willing them to move, flexing his neck in the process, trying to regain control of his slightly paralyzed limbs. He looked to his right, and saw Virgil's crumpled body.

"Virgil!" he called out.

No answer.

Not even a twitch.

Backpack signaled him from somewhere he didn't know, for the small robot had fallen out of his hands the moment Static and Gear had collided. But this time he was ready for the attack. He fired on his skates, and flew upward, away from the outstretched arm that had been aiming for him.

The creatures back leg had gotten caught in the zap trap. She was trying to shake it off, her movement flawed on the right side. He watched as she reared backwards, only to lose her balance in the tight hold of the metal.

Gear looked again at his partner's still body a mere 3 yards away from where the creature thrashed about. His disk had fallen a few feet away from him and he couldn't spot the modified shock vox.

He relayed instructions to backpack. Upon receiving a telepathic confirmation, he witnessed the small robot scuttled out of his hiding place near a burned blue mail box and hurl its entire supply of zap traps at the monstrosity.

Gear didn't wait to see if they made their target or not; he whizzed downward toward Virgil.

He picked his partner up from under his arms and dragged him into a nearby alleyway, taking care to be as quiet as possible; backpack could only distract the sound sensitive beast for so long without its amplification wire.

"Virgil! Virgil, please!" He whispered frantically. He took his partners head in his hands, shook him. Beneath his one ungloved hand, he could feel the familiar warm hum of electricity under his partner's skin.

Richie sighed a breath of relief. At least Virgil still had his charge, even if it was faint. And if he still had a charge, his heart was still beating.

Small comfort.

Another droplet fell from the sky, momentarily covering a fraction of his best friend's skin with water, momentarily drowning any charge he might have had at that particular spot before drying out, and warning of more to come.

Gear stole a glace heavenward, sending a futile prayer upward with his eyes. Virgil's electrical charge could stand a few droplets of water; but not an entire storm.

Richie looked down at his partner and gave him another small shake, noting the blood trickling down from behind Virgil's right ear, mixing in with sweat, and staining the yellow material of his collar.

Panic introduced itself to his once steady voice.

"...V...Virg?"

Virgil stirred weakly.

"hmmm..."

Richie's heart hammered in his chest, awakened from its slowed and panicked pace. He placed his hands on his partner's shoulders and shook again. The key to avoiding brain damage was the time it took to revive the victim. The longer they were unconscious, the less likely they were to emerge from the accident unscathed.

"Come on bro, snap out of if!"

Virgil's eyes screwed up in pain, and then opened. They seemed hazy, not all there. Richie silently weighed the possibility of a concussion in his mind.

"I didn't even see it coming. It's...fast." Virgil mumbled. Richie rolled his eyes, concealing the relief that took over his body.

"Stay here."

"What are you—"

"Just _stay here _ok?" Richie got up from his kneeling position in front of his best friend. "I...your hurt. And your charge is really weak."

Richie peaked around the corner of the alleyway. Backpack was dodging the attacks from the long limbed bang baby. 4 zap traps had made their mark on the creature's limbs, binding them, and making them too heavy to move quickly enough to get a clear shot. She could hear backpack, but was unable to shake off the metal cables in order to strike fast enough.

"Gear?" Virgil was looking up at his partner, his head was swimming. He could feel is powers weakly under his skin. It was as if they could sense the rain, and were tapping-out early. A slight mist of rain fell from the sky now, being blown about by the wind.

The lightning had stopped. Virgil wondered absently if the thunder would cover for its absence.

Gear didn't turn around when Virgil called his name. He seemed to have come to a decision as he peeled off the glove of his other hand.

"Stay here. I'll be right back"

_**The cherry strand is chosen, brightest at its bonds. It was alert, precise, determined, and undeniably strong. But it had a weakness.**_

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He could feel the panic of running in without a plan springing up in his mind. His super brain had calculated his chances of surviving this, down to the last decimal.

The odds weren't phenomenal.

But they weren't impossible.

Backpack barely dodged a piece of flying rubble at it realized that its creator was running towards him. It sends a signal of warning. Gear silently orders it to find its missing amplification wire, and by proxy, the modified shock vox, but Backpack's warning signal does not slow down as it scuttles off to locate the missing piece. At this point, Richie barely acknowledges it.

Gear looked ahead at his opponent, analyzing her. The face was distorted, burned, and unseeing. There were no ears that he could see, which puzzled him. If sound was this creature's weakness, its ears should at least be present, if not unproportionally large. Static and Gear had once battled a bang baby who's weakness was sound, and its ears had been large and bat-like.

Unless…maybe…

Richie's mind reeled, 10 times the speed of a bullet discharged from a barrel. It took him seconds to calculate the probability that this creature was something worse than your average run-of-the-mill bang gas victim.

His skin crawled.

Somewhere, backpack reminded him of the task at hand. He had stood there for no more than 4 seconds, but even the slightest hesitation at this point was a risk.

Richie sent one last prayer heavenward before fumbling with a small compartment on his utility belt. He pulled out a small cylinder and flicked it quickly to his right; unfolding it into a long staff of pure black metal.

He stepped forward, onto the side of one of the police cruisers. He felt it creak loudly under his weight.

The creature turned sharply in his direction, abandoning the search for backpack. Her hair swung wildly as the wind picked up, almost begging Richie to not follow through with his plan. He noted her claws slowly starting to crackle with electricity, ignoring the small drizzle that was falling around them.

He raised the heavy metal pole high over his head, closed his eyes, and brought it down swiftly over the top of the patrol car.

Immediately, as he had calculated it to happen, the siren went off, echoing off the walls of the faded buildings around them. It was not loud enough to cause the monster significant damage, but he hoped it would be enough for it to retreat.

The creature before him twitched as if poised to scream; it thrashed about in agony, ramming into a telephone pole and sending it hurtling into the nearest building.

Then, without any warning, the creature lurched forward, ramming its entire body weight into the police cruiser. Richie stumbled, and plummeted to the street below, the cruiser he had been balancing moments before being tossed into a nearby building like a toy car. The metal made a deafening crunch as it collided with cement. The windshield cracked and shattered on impact, sending shards of glass into the pavement below. Richie ducked for cover from the falling shards. The car landed loudly somewhere to his right.

The sounds of the siren, somehow refusing to be silence, still rang in the air, echoing all around them. The creature stuck the car once more, harder this time, and sent the cruiser into the wall of a nearby building. It made not difference, the noise roared around the street even as the car hit the opposite wall and cracked the cement. The creature reared up in silent, painful protest.

Richie shook off the glass that covered his back onto the ground around him. He crouched low, and silent, observing the monster in front of him. The siren, which was harsh even on his ears, still rang around them, loud as ever. But in front of him the creature had stopped trying to silence the police cruiser. On the contrary, she was backing away slowly, shaking violently. Her exposed bones and muscle contorted in ways that could not be pleasant. He heard the cracking of cartilage, as well as the sound of her electrical charge growing louder. The sparks that had ignited around her claws flared to life traveled up her arm. Her entire body seemed to be shimmering with electrical light, the exposed bones being thrown into dark shadows that made her look even more grotesque than before. Her hair whipped wildly around her scarred head.

Her outer covering seemed to glisten until it was difficult to see. Richie was blinded by the light. As bright as a lightning flash, but constant. It surrounded her, making her features darken and become impossible to discern from the black pavement below. It covered the street, quickly spreading from the center, and blanketing the surrounding areas in blinding white light. He shielded his eyes and waited for his visor to adjust to the light.

Just as he thought of it, the screen of his helmet responded, darkening automatically in order to give him a chance to see his surroundings. He was sure that if he had discarded his helmet at that moment, he would have been temporarily blinded. He looked around him, desperately trying to piece together what was happening. His breath caught in his throat.

Everything around him was slowly falling apart. The paint on the mailbox where backpack had previously hidden started to crack and peel away. The clean metal on the underside began to rust, and corrode. Likewise for the police cruiser, which seemed to crumple in on itself from the force of decomposition. The siren slowly died as the light reached within the car, ripping the upholstery, turning it black, and causing the steering wheel to break clean in two. The metal light post began to fall inward, as if the iron was melting. Suddenly there was a deafening crack as it split from it base, damaging the sidewalk beneath it. The iron rusted, and chipped away. Even the already charred pavement below the creature began to crumble, falling in on itself, the tar no longer being able to support the energy bouncing above it. Everything closest to the beast began to fade in a manner to which Richie could not understand. It was like the burning effects of an atomic bomb, nix the explosion, sapping away all the color at an accelerated rate. There were no shadows, only burning light.

It was like seeing years sun damage in seconds. The light emanating from the middle of the street destroyed everything it touched.

Richie looked down at his hands, to the exposed flesh on his arms. Nothing was happening to him. If this was anything like an atomic explosion, he should be burned right down to his bones by now. But he remained the same, the only feeling on his bare skin was the light mist of rain that continued to fall. Why? What was going _on_?

Ahead of him, the light retracted slightly. There was no sound, save for the violent crackle of electricity from the creature. It rang in Richie's ears, deafening and terrifying. The creature was slightly more visible now, thanks to his adjusted visor and the reduced glare. He could see it move forward towards his position.

Richie was lost for any plan of escape. He automatically struggled with the last zap cap on his utility belt. The creature moved closer; it seemed no longer phased by any sound. It had regained its speed, and seemed to know exactly where its prey was, ready to strike. It was no more than 3 yards away when Richie finally succeeding in prying the metal ball from the hook on his belt. He felt his fingers tighten around it momentarily, before he threw it in squarely in front of him with all his might. If he could just buy some time, maybe he could scramble out of the street, get his partner and get as far away from here as he could. Something. _Anything. _

The zap cap collided with its target. Exploding upon impact, it bounced off the halo of light that surrounded the creature. She didn't even flinch.

She was impenetrable.

And Richie was out of ideas.

His heartbeat quickened. He was unprepared for this.

He couldn't move. There was no hope. No chance. He was rooted to the spot as fear swallowed him whole, blacking out any battle plans or means of escape.

In the back of his mind, he thought of Virgil, in a nearby alleyway somewhere, probably unconscious and unaware that his best friend was seconds away from being bludgeoned to death.

He sent a prayer that Virgil would get away. That somehow he would awaken, and flee. Richie prayed that he wouldn't double back, and challenge the creature in attempts to save him. He knew it wasn't in Virgil's nature to be that way but….

He prayed.

This was one battle they could not win alone. Richie needed his partner, but he was out of luck.

The creature closed the distance between them quickly, scuttling like a spider towards where Richie crouched.

For a moment, the horror in front of him stopped and stared at her prey. Richie could barely breathe, he was hypnotized by her white, glowing eyes. They were small slits, almost touching her hairline. Her dirty wiry hair did not move in the wind, and the spot where her mouth would have been twitched slightly. Richie could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel the cold sweat coat his forehead. His limbs were paralyzed and useless. Terror spread through every cell in his body.

Then without warning, she lurched forward, the glow from her skin flaring to light, her electrical powers wild and out of control. He could feel the heat of the electricity. The sparks burned his skin as they discharged at random. The light was blinding, unreal, almost as if it were a tangible thing; strong and piercing. Somewhere in the distance the thunder rumbled quietly.

From above, a crackling claw descended and made contact with his chest. It pushed down, slamming him into the pavement under him and pounding him into the hard surface. Stars exploded from behind his eyelids.

Upon impact, Richie could feel the white-hot heat sear the spandex of his costume. It worked like acid, eating away at the fabric, burning clean through it, onto the skin beneath. He would have 3nd degree burns in a matter of minutes.

But he barely registered the pain from his burning skin. It was his heart that suddenly send shock waves of agony through his whole body. He had never encountered a pain like this, like every molecule in his body was on fire resonating from the weight on his chest. It was unreal.

A loud strangled noise ripped from his throat; it was painful, and raw. It was like no scream he had ever heard, or made, in his life. It scratched at his windpipe, forcing any air he had left in his lungs out with the sound of his voice. The creature didn't flinch. She bore down on him harder, cracking the pavement beneath him with her strength.

_**A sleek and shining blade appears at the other charred hand. The cherry thread gives a mighty tremble as the blade inches closer. So tempting. Something so pure, so beautiful, so fragile...**_

It was unbearable. Richie just wanted this to end. He had lost. Every cell in his body screamed. Everything was painful and unrelenting.

He could feel it now. A weight, that had nothing to do with the monster bearing down on him, settled over him. His eyesight blurred, and darkened. The pain in his chest, while still present, ebbed into burning numbness, like the feeling of frostbite over hot water. The creature above him did not move, nothing changed about his predicament. At the same time, it was like time slowed down, seconds melted into each other.

He was dying.

Richie closed his eyes, willed it to come, willed for the dark, nothingness to take him; anything to end the pain. He was ready for this to be over.

But his mind called him forward. He remembered the man he was leaving behind.

Virgil's face came into focus behind his closed eyelids. It was funny the memories you recall in your last moments. The fight they had earlier was just a bad dream now. Richie thought of Virgil, and just Virgil. The way he looked down briefly before smiling at him. The way he shoved his hand into his dreads when he was nervous. The way he laughed, the blissful sound of it covering the horrible noise of one of his ribs cracking. Richie wanted only his last seconds of life to commit his best friend to memory. For that to be the one thing that stayed with him as he faded away.

Somewhere far away from where Richie's mind was, the thunder overhead rumbled. The creature was seconds away from claiming her first victim. All that was left was time.

Then, without any warning or pretense, lightning struck. It illuminated the area, brighter than daylight, concentrated on a spot just ahead.

Virgil stood in the middle of the street, arm outstretched towards the sky, absorbing the raw power of the bolt. In his other hand was the discarded shock vox, backpack close behind. The electricity surrounded him in a halo of light. The droplets of rain nearest him evaporated from the charge in the air, giving him the appearance that he was encased in an invisible force field.

The creature looked up, the slits is had for eyes opening wide in shock.

Virgil did not wait for a response. In that very moment, he redirected his energy to the small metal box in his hand.

The sound ripped through the air like a hot knife through butter. It was like a million microphones squealing in unison; the sound was overpowering. It made the very ground beneath them vibrate with the force of 5000 decibels. Richie's helmet would protect his ears from the damage, and Virgil had created a electrical field around his own ears moments before. He hoped it would be enough to protect his auditory nerves from damage.

The creature however, had no such protection. She reared wildly, backing away from Richie, and stumbling. Her long skeletal legs crumpling beneath her. Her entire body shook violently, cracking, and twitching. Her skin, which had been shimmering with energy moments before, dimmed, the light being extinguished almost instantly. Her skin was burning, falling away from the bones and muscle around it. Pieces of flesh littered the pavement as her body contracted frantically, scraping against the cracked tar. Her bones, already blackened from her transformation earlier, fell in on themselves, cracking and calcifying. He exposed spine snapped clean in two and her hair tore away from her scalp, the skin underneath blackened and dead. Worse still was her face. Where there had been no mouth previously, the skin had torn, revealing nothing but blackened flesh. No blood, no teeth, just decayed flesh and the out line of a scream with no voice, only a faint gargling noise of protest.

But Virgil could not look away from her eyes. He stared, transfixed on them; they were wide open in shock and sinking deeper and deeper into her skull. It was like no disgusting horror he had ever seen, yet he could not look away.

Finally, she stopped moving. Her body was unrecognizable. Hair, flesh, and black bones scattered the street in the vague shape of what she had once been.

Virgil reeled in his powers and allowed the bolt of lightning to retracted from his body. The moment he called in the electrical field the shock vox fell silent. Its last screech echoed momentarily around the street and died. Backpack scrambled from his vantage point behind him and went to the remains of their opponent. Virgil watched it for a moment, making sure that the creature did not reanimate. But his suspicions were cleared, the remainder of its body did not move or give any indication of life.

Virgil turned his attention to the other unmoving body in the street.

_**So **_**tempting**_**...**_

"Richie?"

Virgil's heart sank.

Before he had even realized his legs were moving he was inches from his partner. He dropped to his knees and observed the damage.

The entire front of Richie's costume was burned away, the edges were black and looked like the had melted clean off. The exposed skin was red, and raw, like a sunburn gone too far. In places the skin had split, revealing the tender white muscle of the dermis underneath. His ribs seemed to stick out from under his burned skin. There was no rise or fall of his chest that signified that he was breathing.

Panic filled Virgil's mind. He lowered his head to Richie's chest in hopes to hear a heartbeat.

Silence.

"Richie..._Richie"_

_**So immaculate...**_

Virgil ripped off his partners helmet and tossed it behind him. It made a pathetic noise as it bounced off the pavement and landed somewhere beyond his reach. The sky rumbled threateningly. The rain had stopped momentarily; a small blessing of mercy. Virgil at least still had his charge.

Virgil tried to remember the summer that he and Richie had gone to lifeguard camp together. They had learned CPR that summer. Richie had always been better at it than he was; he remembered the other boys playful jokes about Virgils terrible CPR skills.

The details of the procedure were fuzzy.

But he had to try.

Richie's mouth was slightly open, and Virgil tenderly cupped his head in his hands at a better angle. He took Richie's chin, and opened it just so. Moving his hands to the center of Richie's chest, he lowered his head, and their lips met. Virgil pushed as much air forward as he could, lifting upwards slightly and pushing his hands downward with all his strength.

"1...2...3..." Virgil concentrated, pressing firmly each time. When no response came, he lowered his head once again, breathed deep and repeated. Once more. Twice. Three times.

There was no response. Richie stayed still.

_**So close...**_

"Richie, _please". _The panic made his spine tingle. He was too late. He had failed his best friend. He was...he was...

Virgil could feel the sting in the corners of his eyes. His voice caught in his throat and his hands trembled. He lowered his head once more, and their foreheads connected. Richie's was covered in a cold sweat, his hair damp. Virgils pressed his lips together in agony.

"Richie...Im...so...sorry." His voice broke at the last word, the sob escaping his throat before he could stifle it. He tilted Richie's chin upward, and their lips met, this time with no pretense of CPR.

The thunder rumbled, its mercy giving out. The wind picked up and droplets of rain plummeted from the sky. Virgil could feel the last of his charge lost against Richie's lips.

_**The blade finally met its target.**_

Rain began to fall from the sky in earnest now, covering the street in fresh cold water, mixing with the oil, dust and tears on the pavement.

* * *

... don't hate me now ;_;


	5. Chapter 5

See, I told you I would update sooner! I want to go ahead and finish up this before I start another project. And don't worry guys, another one IS coming up. ;)

Anyway, one more chapter to go! sit tight folks. 3

Disclaimer: I don't own static shock, or any of the characters! OH MY BUT IF I DID IT WOULD GO A LIL SOMETHING LIKE THIS:

* * *

Richie was floating. Or at least that's what it felt like. There was not the constant pull of gravity here, nothing to hold him down. He simply...was.

Behind his closed eyes, his mind reeled. He felt an odd nagging in the very back of his thoughts; wasn't there something he needed to do? The more he dwelled on it, the less information revealed itself to him. It was like holding water cupped in your bare hands; all of his memories slipped between his fingers, lost somewhere he could not retrieve them.

Still, he felt something pulling him. Or maybe it was...someone?

"_Virgil."_

Richie's eyes shot open.

At first, he wasn't sure where he was. Everything around him was white; there was nothing. But slowly, the world around him revealed itself, but objectively. No sooner did he have to look in a direction, would something appear in its place. His surroundings blossomed out of nothingness and engulfed him.

He realized he was outside. More specifically, he was in the soccer field behind his old high school.

The sun shone bright in the sky. He looked directly at it, but had no need to shield his eyes. The light did not burn or cause him to squint. It was gentle. White puffy clouds drifted lazily across the clear blue sky. It dawned upon him that he was not wearing his glasses. He did not need them.

Before even realizing that they had been absent, all if his senses were slowly coming back to him. He could smell the freshly mowed grass around him and the sweet smell of wild honeysuckle that grew near the back fence. He could hear birds somewhere in the distance and the wind rustle the grass under his feet. He suddenly realized that he was barefoot, he could feel the grass between his toes. It was warm, and softer than grass strictly should be. He looked down at his chest and realized that he was wearing his favorite sweat pants and green jacket. The one that Virgil had helped him pick out.

"Virgil." He spoke aloud this time, and was surprised to hear his own voice. It was smooth, but louder than he intended. It echoed around him.

Behind, he heard the sound of footsteps on grass. He whipped around, not fully afraid, but not unwary either.

Before him was Virgil's Mother.

He blinked.

She still stood before him, the kindest smile he had ever witnessed upon her face. Her hair wasn't gray like he remembered in the old pictures of her. She looked...younger. She had no wrinkles, no lines of worry that could ever allude to the difficult life she had lead before. She was beautiful, almost glowing, an angelic figure before him. Her stare was kind, and unexplainable comfort washed over Richie.

"Hello Richie." She said, and her voice was soft. It did not echo like his.

"I...um...hi Mrs. Hawkins." Richie could not find words. ". I...hi." He finished lamely. Nothing made sense. Jean Hawkins was...she was...

"Dead?" She spoke again, coming closer. Richie froze on the spot. Could she read his mind? "Yes dear. You are not wrong." Even as she said this, her smile did not falter. She was face to face with him, smiling, and speaking about how she was...dead...

"Does that mean...Oh my god...I'm dead too, aren't I?" Richie's voice sounded like that of a child. He asked the question, yet he already knew the answer. He didn't remember what had become of him before, but surely his death was the only thing that could have brought him here. He did not want to believe his logic.

But even as he thought of this, panic did not rise in his chest. He wasn't even sure if he _could _feel panic or fear. Those emotions felt...foreign and misplaced here. He could not remember them, because though he knew they must be the appropriate response to finding out that you're dead, he just couldn't bring himself to feel anything but content here.

But Mrs. Hawkins only smiled further. "Not quite Richie Foley. You have not left earth completely" She said quietly. "You have someone who needs you." She looked around whimsically, and Richie followed her gaze.

They had not been there a moment previously, but there they were now, clear as day. A young dreadlocked boy positioned about 10 feet away. Standing directly in front of him was a blonde boy with glasses much too large for his face.

Virgil was younger, and so was Richie. The two of them could be no more than 15 years old at this point, Richie speculated. They looked so strange, yet completely familiar. Had Richie really looked like that...once? He was smaller, his hair still short and spiky. Virgil no longer had any facial hair, and was not as tall as Richie was used to. Richie blinked in awe at his younger twin.

They stood face to face in the shade of an oak tree. The spots of sun illuminated their faces in seemingly random spots that twinkled at the leaves of the tree ahead swayed in the wind. The two moved closer. Virgil took both of Richie's hands in his. Richie's younger incarnation turned a noticeable shade of red. Virgil smiled.

Richie recognized this moment. It was the first time that he had ever kissed Virgil. It was in their junior year, the day that Richie found out that he didn't make the soccer team.

They leaned in. It was seconds probably, but it felt like much longer. Richie was lost in the moment before him. They paused when they were just a breath apart. Then, at the most perfect instant, their lips met in a sweet, chaste kiss. It was innocent, not like the kisses he and Virgil had shared recently. There was no motive behind this kiss, just...

"He loves you." Richie jumped. He had almost forgotten that Virgil's mother was right next to him. Still, he was unembarrassed by her presence. She looked upon the scene of Richie and her son, a warm and admiring smile passing along her face.

She turned to face him, and suddenly the scene in front of them disappeared; a tender ray of sun the only thing left of that moment in Richie's life.

He stared at the beautiful woman in front of him. Her kind face. Her sweet smile. He could not think of what to say. Virgil? In love with him?

Mrs. Hawkins took his hands into hers. She was warm, and her heat spread instantly to his fingertips.

"I speak only the truth." She said. Richie could have never accused her of lying, but in his heart, doubt, and fear of rejection flared.

"But he…we aren't like that anymore. He's….I…." Richie sighed and closed his eyes briefly. "We're different."

She looked up into Richie's eyes. He was taller than her, no longer a child, but not a man yet either. Her smile faltered, and it seemed a crime that anything that Richie said should cause her unhappiness. She let go of his hands, and touched the left side of her chest. Where her heart was.

"You cannot be whole without him Richie Foley. And he cannot be whole without you." She smiled, and touched Richie's chin; lifting his head up so that he could look directly into her eyes. Her hands had a pulse; a warm heartbeat that resounded in his ears, flowing through him.

"You were my gift to my only son." She said this with no sense of shame, nor deception. She said it as if one would say the sky is blue, or the grass green. She said it as if it were an inherent fact.

Richie did not leave her gaze. He knew she spoke the truth.. He could never tell you _how_ he knew, for all of his facts and figures and superhuman intelligence failed him at this moment. It was simply something one had to _feel_ to understand.

But he remembered that he was dead. He had been taken from earth, leaving Virgil behind. Richie looked at the woman in front of him sadly, hoping she would understand.

Her smile returned, bright, and loving.

"You have a choice. You always have a choice Richie." You may choose to return to earth. You were stolen from that world, from an event that was not your destiny."

"What's my other option?"

"Or You may come with me and leave earth behind." There was no accusation in her voice. Just kindness.

"Where will we go?" He asked quietly.

"On." She said simply.

Richie frowned slightly. He stepped backward, allowing himself some space from the woman in front of him. He turned around, and breathed deeply.

He looked towards the goalposts where he and Virgil pretended to play a game of soccer after they kissed, laughing off the lasting feeling of the moment. He looked towards the school, the back of the cafeteria where he had spent sunny afternoons with his best friend, talking in code about patrol and annoying Frieda and Daisy. He looked at the old oak tree where they had their first kiss, where Virgil carved their names into the rough bark in their senior year. And then he looked back at Virgil's long deceased mother, who had never once met before this moment.

"I want to go back to him."

Her smile had never been brighter than in that moment. It seemed to lighten everything around her. It was beautiful, and made Richie's entire body warm.

"I knew you would." She said. He voice reverberated around him. Swallowed him up. The light from her enveloped him. The world around him, the soccer field in the sun, his old high school, everything faded into white. He felt the familiar sensation of gravity pulling him gently away. Jean Hawkins was fading away, only her gentle voice remained.

"Remember Richie. This is...a gift..." It echoed around him, not loud, but not quiet either. He could almost hear the delight in her voice. He closed his eyes, let her soft voice fill his mind, let it be the last thing he would ever take back from this place.

And then, suddenly, he felt the impatient pull of gravity once more and she was gone.

But her sweet voice echoed in his mind the entire way back.


	6. Chapter 6

Its been a long time coming, but we're finally done.

I must say. I am so glad to be **done. **So without further ado:

* * *

"_This is...a gift..."_

_**The blade and the red strand meet. **_

The words echoed, becoming fainter with each repetition. The white light that surrounded him ebbed out of focus, and was replaced with the gray sound of rain. The scene in front of him was blurry and hard to make out. The gravity was only slight, but growing.

The rain fell from the sky, pounding the pavement. The sound was familiar to him. In the middle of the street, a boy lay on his back, unmoving, while another kneeled next to him.

The gravity tugged further, but Richie did not move.

The eyes on his body were closed, he recognized.

_His body…_

His senses were all flooding back to him, he could hear the thunder rumbling over head, see his body below him; yet the body they were flooding back to had yet to reawaken. He wasn't sure how this was possible.

_**There is contact.**_

Virgil could not move. Richie was dead, lying beside him like a broken plaything and all he could bring himself to do was sit next to him, brushing his partner's wet hair out of his eyes. If he didn't know better, Richie could have been sleeping.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that he should probably call the authorities. He should get up, and move Richie out of the street. They would need to take Richie's body away. They would find out who Richie Foley _really_ was, and by extension, who Static was. Tonight would be….complicated.

But the facts of Richie's death were only minor thoughts in Virgil's mind. Like a television left on mute in another room; he registered that they were present, but did not dwell on them. He stayed where he was; ignoring the rain falling around him and hardly taking his eyes off of the boy in front of him. He stared at the broken body, willing the reality of it to sink in. He willed himself to feel something, _anything, _other than this sinking awareness.

There was a weight on his chest, like it was caving in. Virgil's eyesight blurred with tears.

He hung his head, burying his face in his hands.

_**In that moment, a ray of light, bright and pure breaks through the darkness. There is a great tremble as the blade cracks right at the point of impact.**_

Suddenly, Richie felt it. Gravity pulls him, and yanks him forward.

The rain is deafeningly loud on Richie's ears. He had not realized how soft and quiet the world he had just left had been. The water was hard on his skin, beating it relentlessly with each droplet. There's a weight within him, far from the floating sensation he had just left. And there is pain. More pain than he could have ever thought possible. Every cell in his body was screaming.

The trip back to earth was uncomfortable, to say the least.

But along with the harsh gravity, there was the soft _whoosh _of air in his lungs. He had been holding his breath this entire time; his lungs ached for oxygen. It was exhilarating, even with the harsh cold air around him, and Richie breathed deeply. His chest expanded with his lungs, irritating the burns there. But he didn't stop.

He could feel his life returning to him.

Virgil's face was buried in his hands and he could not see Richie's movement.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, but his voice had not yet returned.

_**The light emitted is like no other strand in reaching distance. It burns the blackened hand with its intensity, glowing white-hot until the very hand of fate is forced to let go.**_

Painstakingly, Richie reached out a hand. He felt wet fabric around his fingers and tugged, as hard as he was able.

It took Virgil a moment to feel the gentle pull on his trench coat. It was weak, almost barely there.

When he opened his eyes, he expected to see backpack. The little robot must have returned from its inspection of the bang baby they had just defeated.

But what faced him was not Richie's small invention.

But…Richie.

His grey eyes were open, looking directly at Virgil.

His chest was moving, expanding and contracting with every deep breath he took.

And he had the faintest smile playing on his face. One corner of his lips was still bleeding.

He was…Alive.

_**The blade disintegrates, turning to ash and falling away until, like before, there is only nothingingness. **_

Before Richie could say a word, Virgil was upon him, hugging him until the air was pushed out of his lungs.

"V-Virg…need…breathe" Richie sputtered weakly, fully aware at the raspy sound of his voice. He winces at the feeling; it even hurts to speak.

"Oh!...Sorry..." Virgil doesn't let go of his partner completely, but loosens his grip. He props Richie upwards, so that he can sit upwards while still leaning on Virgil for support.

Richie tries to smile at him, but the only expression on his opposites face is pure, unrelenting disbelief.

_**The strand falls away, taking its partner with it, far out of sight and out of reach of the empty blackness. It joins the endless ranks of countless other threads, simply lost.**_

"Rich?" Virgil's voice is no louder than a whisper. If they hadn't been so close, the sound would have been lost in the rain.

Richie takes a deep breath, readying himself for speech and hoping his voice will hold out.

"I gotta... say...Virg. Your CPR could…use some work." He rasps, trying to smile. He is sure it looks like a grimace.

A tear escapes Virgil's wide eyes. He attempts to wipe it away, his gloved hands rubbing over his masked eyes for a moment. It doesn't matter, more tears come to take its place and Richie reaches upward to grab Virgil's hand.

"I'm alive V. Please... stop crying, you're freaking me out." Richie was never good at being serious at the appropriate times.

"I'm not crying" Virgil lies, attempting to wipe away more tears. Richie rolls his eyes half heartedly. He is still in a great amount of pain.

Technopathically, he alerts backpack to signal the police and an ambulance. The little robot has already done so by the time he requests it, sending a silent confirmation to Richie's helmet.

Richie turns his attention back to Virgil, who is still trying to compose himself. He squeezes Virgil's hand in his own, calming him down. Around them, the rain lets up somewhat.

"You…you were..." The dreadlocked boy cannot bring himself to say it. "_How?_"

Richie's mind was fuzzy as he attempted to answer his friend. How _was _he still alive?

No sooner had he thought about, had the answer come to his tongue and spilled out of his mouth before he could logically process it.

"Its…this is a gift." He said without blinking.

He knew Virgil would think he was delirious, but he knew that he spoke the truth. He could…_feel_ it. He could not remember where that truth had come from; the only indication in his mind was a picture of Virgil's mother that he was _sure_ he had never seen before. Why was he thinking of her? He had never even met Jean Hawkins.

Maybe he _was_ delirious.

_**Lost for the moment. **_

But Virgil's smile was warm, and understanding. He looked down at the boy below him, and could do nothing but smile. A choked laugh escaped from his mouth. It sounded more like a sob than anything.

Somewhere in the distance, they heard the familiar sound of sirens approaching.

_**The hand retracts, unphased by the shock.**_

Richie felt the corners of his mouth tug upward despite himself. The pain in his chest was still present, throbbing in time with his heart, as was a slight migraine pounding in his head. Under all circumstances, he should be upset, frowning at the pain in his body and the oncoming task of hospitalizing a hero with a secret identity. Hell, by all logical means, he _should_ be dead.

But he smiles, and runs his fingers along his Virgil's cheek, relishing in his warmth, despite the rain that falls hard around them.

_**For no one mortal can avoid their fate for long.**_

Overhead, the thunder rumbles softly. The rain continues to fall, covering the street in its downpour and washing away all that was there before.

**End**

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Hope you guys liked this! It was fun to write, even if it took me about 3 years to finally finish it off. Don't forget to fav and review m'dears!


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